Basilicus Campaign 100312
by Jessica Eisenberg
Summary: On the planet of Basilicus, somewhat near the Eye of Terror, the Adepta Sororitas, Adeptus Astartes and the Imperial Guard fight the Chaos in yet another bloody campaign. Rating may go up from T, but I certainly doubt it.
1. Prologue

Hi! This is my first fic, so go easy on me. It's meant to be a sort of prologue for a story that I've thought out, so if things seem unexplained here, do stick around for the next few chapters or whatnot. Thanks and review!

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**Prologue**

I swing my bolter up and let the bullets fly at yet another cultist. I've lost count of how many of them I've killed so far, but it surely has to be a sizable number. I've forgotten what's the name of the planet I'm defending. If I'm not wrong, the reference number has a large number of sevens, but remembering the planet is immaterial at this point. What really matters is that the Chaos advance is stopped here.

Whilst I was still new to the Adeptus Sororitas, I had the pleasure of meeting a certain commissar of an Imperial Guard. He was an ageing man, with more than his share of battle scars. My squad was working with his unit in the invasion of an ork world. In between offensives, during a spate of idle conversation, he said something to me that I never really understood till now.

"It's strange, Sister. I've fought for the Emperor for so long that I can barely remember the campaigns that I have fought in. Yet it is only at this time do I really feel that I have given my all for His conquests."

At that time, his words seemed far off and distant. I was younger and more idealistic then, and felt as if I would never forget anything that I have done in the service of the Immortal Emperor of Man. Yet now, though I am glad to say my faith in Him has never faltered, I gradually begin to feel what the scarred commissar meant. To have fought long and hard in His service allows one to understand and appreciate the complexities and righteousness of the Imperium of Man. If you have participated in enough battles to make the different campaigns all meld into an endless series of blood and bullets, then you can really say that you've spent your life in the service of the Emperor.

I've had ten years in the front lines as a basic Battle Sister, but I believe that's quite a long period of time, considering that most other sisters would have either been promoted to a higher rank or been killed. Why I've chosen to be here is really quite a mystery to me. I passed up several opportunities that could have had me join the Celestians, even. Still, it's been an informative and enriching ten years. I can tell the difference between the sound of a Space Marine or Chaos bolter, or the hum that comes from an Eldar Falcon Grav Tank which has a starcannon or not. Yes, it's been educational in a wholly different sort of way.

The roar of battle brings me back from my reminiscing. Sister Superior Kathia is shouting at Sister Illyana to aim her flamer at an approaching Chaos marine squad. I wish I could stay and look at the effects, but the squad of Imperial Guard nearby looks like they need help, from the way that the formation of Raptors is making their way towards them. I shout a warning to the sergeant there, who nods his head in thanks. The guardsmen whip their lasguns and fire into the raptors, of whom several drop from the sky. Before the raptors can land and engage at close range, a squad of Assault marines literally crash into their side, causing the raptors to break formation.

I turn away from the furious melee and give the approaching line of cultists the fullest of my attention. Sophia is balancing two heavy bolters on a sandbag and firing blindly into the enemy ranks, while Jessica is pumping away with her melta gun at the accompanying rhinos. Three Chimeras pull up. Guardsmen reinforcements have arrived, but it looks like they won't be enough to stem the tide.

The revving of bikes fill the air, and the cultist ranks move slightly, revealing the approach of a large number of Chaos marine bikers. They stumble into our minefield and take some casualties, but the majority of them make it over. Our trenches are far too deep and wide for them to make it over safely, so once the get here, they hop off and engage in hand-to-hand combat.

Cursing, I pick up a discarded chainsword just in time to block a strike by a power claw of a chaos marine. Holding him in a dead lock, I gradually let myself be forced backward, before taking out my bolt pistol and shooting him several times through the eyeslit. Blood spurts forth in a crimson fountain, staining my armor, but I'm just glad that the blood isn't mine. I catch another marine on my blade, saving a guardsman from immediate dismemberment. He flashes me a quick smile.

Behind me, I hear Sophia scream as a Chaos chainsword shreds through her power armor and cuts her in two. She falls messily to the ground, limbs twitching as the marine buries his sword into her face in a final _coup de grace_. I turn my bolt pistol on the bastard, but another of those cursed marines strikes out at me suddenly, slicing the pistol in two. Before I can register what is happening, his own chainsword hacks at my side and I am thrown across the trench.

The bolter that was hanging by me is wrecked; I can feel bits of the metal dig into my skin like shrapnel, but otherwise, I'm lucky to be alive. I painfully pick myself up, digging the chainsword into the ground for balance. A nearby Chimera begins firing into the trench, killing the marine. The beleaguered Guardsmen begin clambering out. _Retreat to the city! _The cry runs out. I see the commissars herding their men back into the chimeras, so it can't be a sudden panic in the ranks.

Jessica helps me up. Her face has a nasty burn, which I believe was caused by her melta gun exploding due to it overheating. She has a habit to forget about overheating her weapon, but luckily for her, she isn't lying dead in the trench like Sophia. I see Kathia and Illyana in the distance, and I'm happy they've made it through. But with Sophia's death, our original nine-woman squad has been reduced further to four. Still, I shouldn't complain. At least we weren't decimated like most of the Sisters of Battle when our landing Thunderhawks were attacked in the beginning of the campaign.

Jessica and I clamber into a Chimera. The vehicle is so full that we have to sit on the floor, but we made it in. The treads of the troop transport whirr and grind as the vehicle begins to move from the abandoned trenches. I can faintly hear the _thump thump thump _of bolter rounds hitting the Chimera, but the armor will hold against light rounds. I hear the moan of the injured and I feel glad to be only hurt in the small way that I am. I see a medic bend over Jessica and hand her a cooler pad, which she holds over her burn. Now, not in the heat of battle, the burn seems a lot worse than it looked like at first. It extends down into her uniform and armor.

"Are you sure you don't need more medical attention?" I ask Jessica, tentatively touching the cooler pad.

She grunts, turning away. "It's not that bad. It can wait."

Knowing her, it's worse than that. But what's probably worse is the sting of defeat that we've experienced today. We've lost control of land that belongs to the Imperium, we have lost land belonging to the Emperor. I have no doubt that we'll retake it soon, not only because of my faith in Him, but also in the scheduled arrival of more troops. But the anger and guilt still refuse to go away. It is said, "Hatred is the emperor's greatest gift to humanity". It's true. Every single one of us in this Chimera, and in the Imperium's war machine, hates the Chaos, and that gives us a single bloodyminded objective of crushing this menace. Emperor willing, we will retake this planet. We will.

. . . . .

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As I said above. Review!


	2. 1: Order of Battle

Hello all those who viewed and reviewed! Thanks for staying with me so far! Chapter One follows here, and I hope that you'll enjoy it. It's got more plot and explanations for what the Imperium is doing here and why they're fighting. Also I did change the name of the planet, because I realised that Deralia is actually the home planet of the amnesaic Revan. If you played KotOR, you'll understand what I mean.

Well, enough of my rambling. Chapter 1 awaits!

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**Chapter 1**

**Orders of Battle**

_Basilicus Prime campaign. Start: 10003.1.2 Currently ongoing._

The Rhino trundles slowly through the wrecked streets, navigating itself carefully through the piles of rubble, grinding bits of small gravel to little bits under its heavy treads. Pantheon, the capital of Basilicus Prime, has been wrecked by both Imperium and Chaos bombardment, but at least now the city's area is firmly in our control. Still, the outskirts are precariously in our control. The line of trenches that we lost the last week was recaptured by elements of the 21st Cadian Heavy Armor. They still haven't arrived in force yet, and I can see transports bearing their red 21 insignia landing in the main square.

_Chaos taint has been indentified near the capital and contact has been lost with several outlying settlements. The dark side of the moon has also had some of its listening posts knocked offline, though this could be due to age rather than a concerted Chaos move. Nevertheless, the deployment of Imperium forces should be undertaken at the earliest possible moment._

And so, a detachment of Sisters was added to the Imperium battle group that deployed on Basilicus Prime. A regiment of guard and a company of marines made up the rest. By the looks of it, it was far too small. Artillery, armor, heavy infantry, close air support, the Chaos have somehow managed to insert all those without the planetary government noticing. So we now have the comforting information that three more guard regiments are on their way. They should send an Inquisitor as well. Check up on the imperial governor, even if he isn't tainted by Chaos. They should haul his incompetent fat ass into a penitent engine for letting this happen under his nose.

_Basilicus Prime is the first of seven planets in the star system; Basilicus Secundus thru to Quarto are gas planets; while Quinto to Septimus are but scorched rock. However, the Basilicus system itself is near a point where Chaos forces have begun to appear; even though there is no real stable space between here and the Eye. If this continues to happen, Basilicus Prime will become like Cadia, a military planet to the extreme, constantly on the alert._

In this Rhino sit the reconstituted squad of Sisters, made up of greenhorns straight from the Covenant Prioris. The veterans in this squad used to take bets on how long the greenhorns would last, until Kathia caught wind of this. After slapping the ringleader into Repentia, none of us dared do something like this again. Especially after the last battle. After a series of victories, a bloody setback like that made us all more aware of our mortality in the service of the Emperor.

_A line is first to be set up around the capital, Pantheon, before an extended campaign can be conducted. The nature of the terrain would make the capital a natural fortress; situated on an isolated butte, surrounded by rolling plains, impossible for a sneak attack to take place. _

I turn to one of the so-called greenhorns. She looks confident, as she checks her bolt pistol again. Her face is set in a secure smile, and her fingers beat a soundless tempo on her thigh. Well, a few encounters with the enemy will remedy it. Not that I want to throw her trust in the Emperor into sharp doubt. I mean, look at me. Ten years of bloody conflict and still happily serving the Immortal Emperor of Man. But as they say, a wise man is ever afraid.

_Close troop cooperation tactics will be necessary to the successful completion of this campaign. It seems likely that a massive military force will have to be deployed on this planet eventually, and it only makes sense that inter-arm cooperation be established from the very beginning._

From the troop roster, this addition's name should be… "Carolina, isn't it?" I extend a gloved hand to the Sister. She takes it, mouthing a word of thanks. We lapse into an uncomfortable silence again.

"Well I-"

"Err, you're-"

We catch ourselves speaking at the same time again, and observe another few momements of silence to remember another loss in the battle to establish relations. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Jessica's eyes blinking with concealed mirth, the line of her mouth curling up slightly. It's good to see her in better spirits again, even at my expense. After the meltagun incident left her face with a massive scar extending from her eye all the way down to her abdomen, she didn't seem all that jocular.

_Basilicus has several important points that make it essential to defend. Firstly, it lies in the path of several major trade routes. Secondly, it is the location of the Imperium's first attempt at prefabricated colony design, and to have the planet to fall will mean the promising project will meet its end igonimously, with the lost of so much data. Thirdly, the aforementioned concentration of Chaos makes it a likely sally port for their forces in the near future. Then there are the rumours of several alien artifacts that lie undiscovered under its surface. _

The Rhino rolls to a stop in front of the government central. As the leader of the only Sororitas contingent present at the initial battle, Sister Kathia is due to make a report to the commanding officers of the campaign, as well as the fat oaf of a govenor. The guardsman at the door snaps to a crisp attention as we stride into the towering building. Most of the squad will remain in the lobby, while Kathia goes up and makes her report. I'll be accompanying her, but mostly for ceremony and decorum.

_As such, this lowly Inquisitor sees it necessary for a relatively strong force be sent for immediate garrison duties on Basilicus Prime. Time is of the essence here, for it is only a matter of time before the forces of Chaos make a move into this system. _

_Signed,_

_(Name and Rank ommited)_

The lift hisses up, and I watch the view of Pantheon with a certain sense of disinterest. The glass panels have dirty gloves smudges, and bits of the lift's carpet have been kicked up. Well, in war, one can't really complain about proper hygiene when 435mm shells are crashing down around you.

The conference room is sparse and functional, with a generic square table and chairs. The four commanding officers sit there, with Basilicus' governor in the middle. Kathia moves to the centre of the room, while I take my position next to the door.

"Welcome, Sister Superior Kathia." The governor says, consulting his notes. "We understand that you were in charge of a nine-woman squad in the first line of trenches a week ago."

"That is correct, governor." Kathia's answers are crisp and to the point.

"Would you mind telling us what exactly happened? The view from a Sister of the Sororitas would definitely be refreshingly new as compared to that of a lowly guardsman." The governor and the Imperial Field Marshall exchange nasty looks. Evidently they've already been at each other's throats. I don't know. I thought the guardsmen fought pretty well in the engagement, considering how few their numbers were and how unprepared they were.

"My squad deployed two weeks ago together with the 17th Valhallan G company units to the northern trenches. We were assigned to defend the sector 'Wolf Red', a slight rise in the plains," Kathia points to a map on the wall. "We immediately set about building bunkers and gun emplacements, but supplies of rockcrete were low, so the guardsmen's progress was proportionate. On the fourth day of our deployment, the sector was hit by a heavy artillery bombardment. Apparently the Chaos had moved artillery units within range during the night. They were stationary guns that had to be pulled by hand, so they managed to keep it unnaturally quiet. Commissar Vaughn executed one of the sentries that night, still."

"Why only one, sister?" The Field Marshall, Marshall Gerhard Albrooks, cuts in.

"The movement of the guns was done extremely quietly, under the cover of a thunderstorm. A thick mist also followed the storm before and after. We suspect that the movement of the guns was assisted with floatation engines, but of course we were unable to acertain this. Whatever the case, it would have been nigh impossible to detect, as the conditions were perfect for the concealment of the enemy. My sentries didn't notice it either. Commissar Vaughn's execution probably was to keep the company on its toes, rather than actually punish anyone."

"Thank you, sister." Marshall Albrooks gives the governor a sidelong glance as he gestures for Kathia to continue.

"The bombardment continued for nearly three hours, but casualties were minimal, as enough bunkers had been constructed for adequete protection. I don't know the exact numbers, but I'm sure the company commander has them. Anyway, after the bombardment came the real attack. As most of the occupying troops were exiting their bunkers and recovering from the bombardment, hordes of berserkers began pouring over into the trenches and engaging the guardsmen in close combat. This was wholly unexpected, and with the company being fully light infantry, no Ogryn melee units were available. Not that I mean to sound disrespectful to you, sir, but the guardsmen were outclassed and they were slaughtered. The only thing that saved the day was a counterattack in and out of the trenches by my squad and the company's chimeras, as well as the timely arrival of the Astartes squads. I believe that the company's losses that day was around forty-five percent. I lost four sisters of my squad as well."

"The company commander radioed in for reinforcements and a possible relieving force, but these were denied." Here the governor coughed guiltily. Smiling ruefully, Kathia continued, "The company's only techpriest spent the entirety of the night building minefields in front of the trenches. That probably allowed the position to survive the next day."

Here the Astartes commander made an interjection. "The next day had heavy air attack, if I'm not wrong? Could you focus more on what craft you were attacked with?"

"Well, sir, I'm not very sure. There were high level attack craft, which also passed over the capital, but those were too high for me to identify. It was the close support aircraft that really gave us trouble, sir. Large numbers of converted Marauders bombed our line of trenches the whole day. During the breaks, Chaos cultists attacked, but the minefields helped a lot in pushing them back."

Kathia took a deep breath. "We didn't see a single Imperium fighter during those periods of time, so we had no way to respond to the Chaos air attack."

"Rubb-bish!" the Imperium Space Admiral Doenitz stutters, his monocle falling out of place. He replaces it in a huff. "To say that the air assault was our fault…"

"Peace, Admiral." Cannoness Angela speaks for the first time. "No one's accusing you of being useless. We know your fighters weren't ready for deployment yet." The Cannoness' scarred face turns into a small smile. "Continue, Sister Kathia."

The admiral blutters a bit more before quieting down. I feel a little sorry for him. My unit had worked with Karl Doenitz's space units before, and he's a capable chap, if a little excitable. However, it's apparent he isn't very popular with the rest of the people seated at the table.

"Well, the Chaos attacked with true force the next day. All three contingents fought well, but by the Emperor, there were just too many enemies for us to put up an effective defence, even with the committing of all our reserves. We had no choice but to pull back, to avoid complete annihilation. Even now, I believe, G company is done for as a fighting unit. Which is a pity, for they were good men."

"No man who dies in His service dies in vain, Sister," reminds the Marine captain.

Kathia nods respectfully at him, sharing the sentiment.

"What did the Chaos throw at you to stop the retreat, sister?" prods Marshall Albrook.

"Well, it was a little difficult to tell from the inside of the Chimera, sir," Kathia ventures, drawing a few good-natured titters from the table. 'But I believe their Raptor squads followed us for a part of the way, and of course air attack was quite constant."

"I especially agree with the part about air attack, Sister." The fat governer butts in. "I mean, there's very little air cover in this city, you see, even at this point, isn't it?"

"Admiral Doenitz, you'll have to hurry your deployment. My boys have been wondering whether the Imperial fleet has packed up and left." Marshall Albrooks adds, agreeing with the governor for the very first time.

"What-at-at rot!" the Admiral stutters, furious at the way that his battle fleet is being lambasted. "I swear, we've got this city under very close air cover, and-"

The sound of a roaring of engines suddenly tears through the room, as all eyes are drawn to the windows. A pair of Chaos aircraft are making a run over the city, dropping heavy ordinance with wild abandon. I can see guardsmen frantically manning their flak turrets, but they're unable to bring them down. We watch them swoop off untouched, fading into the horizon.

As the commanding officers go back to the seats, it is noticed that Admiral Doenitz is strangely missing.

"Must have been too affecting a scene for him," mutters the Cannoness, "Two aircraft against the sun. Very romantic for those former fighter jockeys."

"By the Emperor," exclaims Marshall Albrook, 'If I knew who those two bastards were I'd give them a medal."

"Thank you, Sister." The Space Marine captain addresses Kathia, as he refrains from making a snide comment. "Dismissed."

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So what do you think? I'm a little unsure about the tone of the commanding officers. I modelled it after a modern day military interview and threw in some inter-adeptus rivalry, but should it be more severe? But yet not everything in Warhammer 40,000 should be deathly harsh and serious, right? Whatever. Review!

Oh and if you can identify where the Chaos fighter scene is adapted from, then you deserve an imaginary cookie.


	3. 2: Marking Time, Waiting for Death

Hi all! Thanks for staying with me up till now. Do keep viewing and reviewing (for the two who have so kindly done so =D). I realized in the last chapter I made the setting seem a little to lighthearted for a Warhammer 40,000 story, which is supposed to be dark and depressing. One day I'll go back and rewrite that one. For now, enjoy the (hopefully) darker Chapter 2!

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**Chapter 2**

**Marking Time, Waiting for Death  
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The news came to the squad a couple of weeks after Kathia's report. It had been quiet for a while, with only the Chaos air attacks to contend with, and even these were getting fewer and fewer, thanks to Doenitz having pushed his fleet hard to provide almost constant aerial patrols. The newbies in the squad have more or less become integrated into the remnants of our merry band. Sister Carolina tagged on to me since that day, though we hardly exchange a word. But I don't mind, she's a nice person.

I've taken over Sophia's heavy bolter. It was a job I don't really relish, because I find the weight of the weapon ridiculously unwieldy. I much prefer my bolt pistol, but we need the heavy firepower in the squad. Sophia's bolter was her pride and joy, and I marvel at the way she managed to get the shine on the weapon. Of course, during battle, she wrapped most of it in black cloth, but she still took great care with that weapon. Now, as we get ready to leave base camp, I let my fingers drag over the weapon. Sophia had a strange sense of humour, and I really felt that when I was inspecting the weapon. She had engraved "From Sophia with Love" on each of the bullets. Granted, we had a lot of free time in between missions, even with weapon and fight practice, but it would have taken forever to put together such an impressive job.

We gathered outside our quarters in front of our Rhino for Kathia's briefing. Apparently, the 21st managed to capture one of the outlying towns near the capital, and though Chaos elements still remained in area, it was more of a mop-up rather than a battle. So, our battle probably had something to do with extending the line further. Or a complimentary attack on the other flank.

Kathia strode in front, in between us and the dormant Rhino. "Sisters, I'm glad to see you got here on time. I'll get to the point, there's no point in simplifying an already straightforward mission. The 21st have pushed into the town of Windfall, and it's our job to occupy a house there."

Nobody makes a noise, but it's obvious that they're all feeling confused and indignant at the orders. Illyana speaks up for us. "Sister Superior, isn't that a job more for the guard? Occupation's a job for the guardsmen, not for us. Why static defence, of all things?"

Kathia nods her head. "There's an unattractive reason for that." She hands out a picture of a three storey house, which leads to a bridge that crosses over what appears to be a chasm. Suddenly all becomes clear. Jessica nods, understanding the implications of holding that house. Carolina's looking a little confused, and I'm about to explain it to her when Kathia continues.

"That bridge in the picture is the only entrance to Windfall; and that house is the only one that stands near the bridge for the next three hundred metres. Under normal conditions, Imperium engineers would have constructed defences already, but that area's still under heavy bombardment by artillery and covered by their snipers. So work can only be undertaken at night. What's more, that area's been mined. Only the road is confirmed to be safe. Only when the Chaos have been cleared from those areas can defences be built. Until then, the only way we can defend that bridge is that house."

I look back at the house. It didn't seem very impressive. Just some generic house that you'd see on every street. Heck, it could even be prefabricated. But to think that the occupation of Windfall depended on the defence of that building.

"Alright!" Kathia's shout brings me out of my reverie, "There's no point in waiting here. The Guard have dusted and cleaned the area nicely for us, and we wouldn't want to leave them waiting."

She gives us our customary Sororitas benediction, and we all pile into the Rhino.

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In the Rhino there's nothing much to do. During the last campaign, Sister Rosencrantz, who was strangely musically gifted, would lead us in singing hymns to the Emperor, but she died on the first day of action. So the seven of us contented ourselves with staring at each other's eyes for most of the journey. Seven because two of our group were driving the vehicle.

The hum of the engines and the vibrations it sends through the hull steadily lull some of us into a light sleep. I content myself with examining the heavy bolter. I've only used it on the practice range, so the more I know it, the better I can get used to it on the field of battle. Jessica looks over my shoulder and catches a glimpse of Sophia's custom bolter bullets. "So you've kept her bullets?"

"You knew?" I raise my eyebrows with interest.

"Yeah, she used to engrave them during the trips on the Rhino, when Rosencrantz got tired of calling us to praise His name." Jessica smiles, turning her scar into a twisted swirl of dead skin.

I look back at the heavy bolter and pick up the chain of bullets attached to it. "I wonder if she'd mind if I continue her idea," I mutter, as I draw my combat knife.

It's tiring work, but after about five minutes of struggling, I manage to inscribe my name on a single bullet. "How the heck did she manage to get through all of them?" I wonder aloud.

Jessica smirks. "Practice, I suppose." She herself was playing around with her new meltagun. I catch sight of what she's been trying to write. "The Em-" is all she's done. Looks like she's having trouble too.

Carolina has dozed off. Her head swings back and forth from the two sides of her headrest, striking against my shoulder armor lightly once or twice. Her bolt pistol hangs lazily from her side.

I begin to hum one of the hymns softly to myself as I set upon another bullet.

* * * *

We've entered the city of Windfall, which like many of the cities that I've seen, is full of craters, debris, and dead bodies. Our Rhino weaves past several Chimera carcasses, and surmounts a fallen sentinel that lies flat across the road. The place is filled with guardsmen.

We entered at dark, but a strict blackout is being enforced. Only a few lights here and there are still on. The Chaos artillery have really got this place covered from above. High command hopes to change this soon when Imperial fighters can make friendly visits.

Everyone inside the Rhino is fully awake and alert, taking in the surroundings. I see one of the newcomers, a short woman named Freyr, has to stand on the seat to look out through the viewport. It's quite comical, and I have control myself from smirking.

We've arrived about halfway through, but we've had to stop because a couple of Chimeras with bulldozer blades are attempting to remove a gutted Chaos Predator and Leman Russ tank wreck from the middle of the main thoroughfare, the two vehicles locked together in a bizarre mix of armor plate and tracks. Carolina opens one of the top hatches and peers out tentatively.

"Sister!" One of the guardsmen called out. "You're headed for the lone house, right?"

I look out through the viewport. The man's cap and bars identify him as a captain. I hear Carolina calls back an affirmative.

"Well, good luck then," the man replies, "It's a bloody rest spot, that place."

The sarcasm in his voice is obvious. But the wrecks have been moved, so Carolina abandons the conversation and ducks back in as the Rhino roars back to life.

After several hours, our Rhino rumbles up next to the lone building and we clamber out of the transport. It's pitch black here, and I can barely make out the shapes of guardsmen approaching us. Kathia and Illyana are last out, being the drivers, but Kathia's step is the most energetic of all of ours. She sharply nods the commissar that approaches. "Good morning, commissar. We're your relief."

The commissar's features aren't visible at all in the night, but the surprise in his voice is evident. "Sisters of Battle? We were expecting another few squads of Guardsmen." He salutes back, his gloved hand almost imperceptible. "Well, sister, you've got your job cut out for you. Two squads of men were assigned to defend this house three days ago. What you see behind you is all that's left."

My eyes make out five vaguely human shapes.

"Chaos has got the area under strict control. I know I shouldn't be saying this, but we hold this land in name only. The Chaos control who goes in and out." He spits hollowly on the floor. "They've been sniping us through the windows too. We've gotten them boarded up, but you should keep an eye on them still. Oh, and one more thing. You should get that Rhino of yours out of sight by dawn, unless you want to get it destroyed. When the sun rises, you'll see destroyed Chimeras there," his arm extends into the night, "there, there and there." He continues to point behind him. "There, there and there as well."

"Thank you, commissar." Kathia, unimpressed by the man's warnings. "Illyana, drive the Rhino as close as possible behind the house." Illyana's bootsteps fade away. "What about the minefields, commissar?"

"Completed yesterday. But with the artillery, Emperor knows how many of them are still around. Oh, and one more thing, Sister. A squad of Karskin went out to scout an hour ago, on foot. So if you see something coming, make sure you don't shoot it straight away. Emperor Bless, Sister." He motions to the men behind him. "Come, men. We're going to make it back to camp on foot."

The guardsmen wordlessly shuffle behind him as they make a quick march away. We wait until their steps fade out completely before we move towards the house. Kathia steps back next to me.

"So, Sister, what did you think of our little commissar?"

I smile, but I realize she wouldn't be able to see me. "A yellow-bellied coward. I thought at first that he was a soldier who had stolen a commissar's uniform. The men behind him seemed the epitome of calmness next to him."

Kathia chuckles. "Not a very likeable person, to be sure. Yet if even half of what he says is true, then we have great reason to be careful here. Once I get in there, I'm going to request for close air support."

"Think High Command will give it?"

"There's no harm in asking. But at the very least it seems the defences are set up."

"Sister Superior," Carolina speaks up from my side, "why doesn't the Chaos just destroy the house with artillery?"

Kathia's head turns in her direction. "Most of time, bombarding a building only makes it easier for the enemy to defend it. Though if what we've heard is anything to go by, the numbers of Chaos artillery should be enough to turn the building to dust." She turns to the building doubtfully. "I'd better go and inform the next checkpoint that the commissar is heading their way. If not they'll fill him with holes, in this kind of light."

Once we enter the building, Kathia begins ordering us to various stations. I find myself on the top floor with Jessica and Carolina. It's a sparse room, with a few overturned chairs, a table and a bed. On this Jessica immediately flops down on, her meltagun clattering to the floor. Carolina and I instinctively hop back, but luckily the weapon doesn't misfire.

"Calm down. It isn't loaded." Jessica says, before giggling like a schoolgirl. I shake my head and pick up the weapon. On it is scratched, "The Emperor's wrath shoots forth". I lean the gun on the bedhead.

"You know, that borders on being heretical. To treat the machine in such a way." I point out, as I push several sandbags to the window, "You ought to be careful about doing such things."

"Get off my case, Sister." Jessica appears unconcerned. "If the machine spirit is so easily offended, then it'll have killed off half the Imperium by now."

I place my heavy Bolter on the sandbags and my belts of ammunition next to it. "You'd best stop it now." This time I'm deadly serious.

Jessica immediately sobers up. "Very well, Sister." She immediately kneels and says the adequete prayer of repentence. The atmosphere has turned tense. Carolina was completely shocked by what she heard. We continue preparing the room in complete silence.

The Guardsmen have done an adequete job in fortifying the little house, but we carried reinforcing rods and extra bolters and tripods on the Rhino, not to mention empty sandbags. These we spend the greater part of two hours dealing with. I hear a heavy _clank _downstairs and peer down. Illyana is trying to shift the Rhino's grenade launcher into the house, together with the help from two other sisters. They're sweating and straining to get the heavy weapon into place, but it looks like they can handle it. Carolina is breaking open another hole in the wall and stuffing sandbags there, and Jessica is sighting the two heavy bolters assigned to us. I begin the ceremonies to honour the machine spirit in my weapon. Just as I finish, I hear Freyr call out, "Unidentified humans sighted!"

Throughout the whole building, we jump into position, but noise barely filters around. My heavy bolter and I leap into action, balanced silently at the front window. Behind me, I can glimpse Carolina doing the same with her own heavy bolter. Jessica fingers her meltagun and slots in a power cell.

Out of the gloom emerge two distinctly normal humans, one of them helping the other along. Kathia shouts to us, "Hold fire!" We check ourselves. I leave the other two in charge and make my way down to the first floor, where two injured Karskin are obtaining rudimentary medical attention. Kathia is in deep conversation with the one that is more alive.

"Thanks be to you, Sister. Damn, I thought we'd never make it." The wounded man says, wincing as he presses one of our healant patches to his wound. "The Chaos are really massing across the bridge. We barely made it across before we stumbled into a patrol of cultist. By the Emperor, the moment they saw us, I swear the sky became thick with sniper lead. Most of the men in the squad went down in the first volley. Luckily, the cultists were easily dispatched by our grenade man there," he says, gesturing at the injured private, "if not we'd have left His service by now."

Sister Kathia waits for him to catch his breath, before asking, "Tell me, Sergeant, how many heretics did your squad manage to ascertain on the far side of the bridge?"

The sergeant shifts himself into a more comfortable position. "Everything was so dark, I couldn't tell, Sister. But if they've extended their patrols up to the bridge, they must be planning something soon."

"Probably a morning assault, then." The Sister Superior says, before turning to Illyana. "Sister, contact HQ and inform them of this development." She returns to the two men. "Now then, Sergeant, I'll have one of my sisters transport the two of you back to the main base in a moment. There's still an hour to dawn, but Emperor willing, there's still time to beat the Chaos' morning bombardment." The sergeant nods his thanks, as Illyana rushes back in, all flushed in confusion.

"Sister Superior!" she pauses to gather herself. "Sister Superior, I can't get through to HQ. It seems like our communications are being jammed, there's not a single cursed signal!"

Kathia spins around. The probability of what might be happening is completely apparent. From above, both second-storey and third-storey sisters break out into a chorus of "Contacts!" and "Open fire!"

I catch Kathia's eye. "Sister Superior, the Karskin's contact with the cultists wasn't a patrol, then, it was a…"

"Yes, it was a vanguard force." She curses under her breath. "So soon! Emperor protect us..." She quickly swings into command mode, however, and her high, clear voice rings out.

"SISTERS! TO BATTLE! SHOW THEM THE WRATH OF THE EMPEROR!"

A resounding cheer goes up around our little outpost, as heavy weapons fire rips out from the little building. I immediately run up the steps, but Kathia stops me midway up. "Sister, take the Sergeant up. Have him give fire support with his lasgun."

She turns back to the Karskin officer. "Sorry, brother, but it seems that the Emperor doesn't see it fit to let you rest just yet." The man nods dumbly with understanding.

I grab the man's lasgun and drag him to his feet, hauling him up the stairs to my post, where Jessica and Carolina are already firing away with wild abandon. I station the sergeant at the extra window and lay his lasgun next to him. "From here, brother," I say to him, "you have a relatively clear view of the bridge once dawn breaks. Take your time to rest here and let your wound heal a little."

'My thanks, sister," the Sergeant smiles at me. "Sergeant Reglay, pleased to meet you."

I would have replied, except that the roar of Raptor jetpacks cut me off. I grab my heavy bolter and crash down at the window next to Carolina. The lead seems to cackle as the bullets begin to hammer into the Raptors. The Sergeant, unwilling to wait for dawn, picks up his rifle and begin shooting over our shoulders.

As dawn breaks after an hour of frantic shooting, we see the Chaos arrayed out before us, seemingly uncountable like the drops of water in the sea. Let them come, I say. They will come at our little rock like the wave and smash apart like the wave against a rock. For if the Emperor is with us, who can stand against us?

* * *

Well, what did you think? I tried to show the situation in the battle in minute detail for this chapter, to set up for an extended battle in the next chapter. A veritable tobruk, isn't it? See you in the next chapter!


	4. 3: The House in the Middle of the Sea, 1

Hi all! Thanks for staying with me for the last 2 chapters and the prologue. Today I present to you a massive battle. I'm quite happy with it, and I sure as hell hope you'll enjoy it too! Proceed!

**Chapter 3**

**The House in the Middle of the Sea, Part 1**

The Chaos assault petered out in about an hour. My little third floor army placed their arms down for the first time and took a few grateful gulps of water from their canteens. My arm is numb from the vibrations of the heavy bolter. I massage it gently, trying to get the feeling back into it. Jessica's meltagun almost exploded again, but this time she remembered to be careful and switche d over to her bolt pistol instead.

We are lucky to have not sustained many casualties thus far, but this will probably change, once a real assault on our position begins. It seems to be a small testing manouever into our territory, and never did they once get within a hundred metres from our position, thanks in part to the minefield. I place my empty canteen down on the floor, knocking into several spent rounds from the bolter. The floor is strewn with them. Sergeant Reglay is busy sweeping them to a corner, where they clink together in a not unpleasant sound. His wound to his foot has not fully healed, but he doesn't need his foot to be able to fire his lasgun. He's a pretty good shot, making him a welcome addition to our force, his bandolier of krak grenades notwithstanding.

Carolina is cleaning her bolter, which has gotten clogged up with sand when a lucky chaos cultist managed to hit the sandbags, choking the firing mechanism. It's a real million dollar shot. She used my bolt pistol for the rest of the battle, but she's awfully concerned about her own weapons in these situations. Watching her steadily nick the grains of sand out from her beloved gun is an interesting diversion.

I lean out of the window and gaze into the horizon, as the sun begins to rise lazily over the mountains, turning everything a tinted orange. The land in front of me is covered with craters and dead Chaos cultists. The minefields had stopped the chaos in their tracks, and they seem to be layered extremely heavily. Jessica leans over my shoulder and stares wistfully into the distance. "A pretty sight," she finally concludes, "accentuated by the dead cultists, of course." She begins filling the spent meltagun power cell with bolter bullets. According to her, doing this and adding some gunpowder turns the cell into an efficient cluster grenade. I haven't actually seen it work, but this due to the lack of oppurtunity for the use of such a weapon. Before that, I'll stick to the krak grenades.

Kathia pokes her head up from the stairwell. "Everyone all right there?" Four heads nod back solemnly.

"That's good. Take the time to rest. The Chaos vanguard has left, but they have not retreated." Kathia takes a deep breath. "Rather, they've moved forward."

"They bypassed our position? Then, their attack was simply a diversion?" Jessica is incredulous. "But, that's can't be true, Sister! We would have heard from HQ! And we would have known if they had moved past!"

Kathia smiles wanely. "The Chaos cut our communications just before they attacked. HQ probably didn't know we were attacked, though they can probably guess that now. Chaos has probably hit them already. And do you suggest that we could have heard Rhino engines beyond the sounds of bolter fire played directly to our ears? You expect too much of our senses, sister."

Kathia turns to the sergeant. "Brother, your trooper is making good progress. I hope you don't mind us borrowing the grenade launcher in the meantime."

Sergeant Reglay smiles. "If it kills chaos, then its use cannot be wrong, can it, Sister?"

"Emperor bless you." Kathia replies, as she walks back down the stairs.

Carolina is a little frightened by the sudden situation that we've landed ourselves in. I can't blame her. Kathia left a lot unsaid. The fact that the Chaos have moved past us means that they are attacking in a force large enough to not fear a counterattack to the rear. It also means that there is going to be another force to follow up and mop us up. Even if we do manage to withstand the mop-up force, we will probably be surrounded when the vanguard force retreats or finishes killing the Imperium forces in the town. Heck, if this was my first battle, I'd be scared too. True faith in the Emperor comes only after long service.

* * * * *

The second Chaos assault came an hour after sunrise. It began with a heavy preparatory bombardment, which began auspiciously with a cascade of shells falling on our rhino, sending it up in flames. I could here the ground floor team cursing as they rushed to stamp out the flames lest they spread to our position. Meanwhile, the only thing the rest of us can do is sit and wait for the bombardment to stop. Listening to shells land metres you're your position isn't exactly the most fun thing to do. Carolina is carefully covering the barrel of her bolter. Artillery really takes the joy out of life.

Suddenly the shelling abruptedly stops. We quickly rush to the windows and squeeze our weapon's triggers in the face of the first few chaos cultists. They scream as they fall, guns squeezing out a last few shots abruptedly in the air. Behind them, a row of chaos rhinos begin charging towards our position, crushing the cultists in their paths. Quite a number of them are destroyed by the minefields, but several of them park right next to our house, their hatches thumbling open as chaos marines pour out. I pull a krak grenade pin out with my mouth and toss it into the open hatch of one of the rhinos, destroying it messily, red and black blood flying into the air, flecking into the second storey. Jessica's meltagun pumps several shots into another machine, hitting the fuel, and sending the flaming vehicle careening into another before exploding, sending the tank wheels and treads soaring into the air. Another rhino's occupants are killed by the karskin's grenade launcher, with judicious shots from the second storey into the open door as the chaos marines attempt to exit.

Still, two rhinos manage to make it directly in front of the building, and before long, a furious melee ensues on the bottom level, with sounds intermixed with imperium hymns and Khorne battlecries. I drop my heavy bolter, draw my chainsword and bolt pistol and dash downstairs to assist. My feet barely touch the stairs once or twice and I land in a crouch on the ground, standing up just in time to give a full clip of my bolt pistol in the face of a chaos marine. Kathia is in the midst of dueling with the squad's aspiring champion, while Illyana is using the opening created by the Sister superior to unload her heavy flamer fuel into the second rhino, setting the occupants into human torches. Two other sisters are engaging in a vicious melee with a couple of chaos marines, and I rush forward to help them. However, another chaos marine cuts me off, and the two of us begin to strike out with our chainswords.

In such close fighting, the marine's strength really shows, as I am gradually knocked back by his powerful blows. His chainsword chops up the table I have ducked under, and I use this oppurtunity to strike at him as his chainsword follows through. My own weapon only manages to damage his armor slightly, and I try to bring my bolt pistol to his head to compensate. He is too fast, and his sword slices the gun in half. I drop the shattered pistol and bring up the chainsword just in time to block his next blow, but he then lashes out with his power armor boot, knocking me to the ground. Winded, I am just able to roll out of the way of his downcut, as I pull myself to my feet, coughing heavily. I can taste blood in my mouth.

The marine doesn't let up as he proceeds to slash towards me again and again. Next to me one of the sisters is sliced in two by a marine chainsword, and the spurt of blood runs in front of my vision. As I move out of the way, a chainsword slices through the spring of blood and cleaves down on my hand. I wasn't holding on too tightly to the chainsword, and I drop it, lucky to get away with only a gouge in my wrist that reveals several inches of bone.

But now without weapons, my options are limited. I espy the karskin private's helfire lasgun lying in the corner, but what good would such a weapon do in close quarter fighting? Never mind. Beggars can't be chooses. Right arm throbbing, I roll out of reach of the marine's next swipe and grab the rifle. The marine launches his armored bulk at me, but I am ready. I feint to the side and thrust the rifle up, the bayonet slicing into this helmet visor. He gurgles and tries to swing his chainsword in my direction, but with him blinded, I easily dodge his clumsy attack. I close my eyes and pull the trigger, and imagine the lasgun drilling a pretty pattern of holes into his skull. I feel his weight slip off the bayonet and the warm splash of his lifeblood on my uniform. As I open my eyes, I watch Kathia slice off the aspiring champion's head in a clean blow. The last remaining marine turns and attempts to flee, but is quickly cut down by accurate fire from the four sisters in the room.

I sink to the floor, clutching my arm. It's not too serious an injury, but it hurts like hell. Illyana runs up to me with a healant pad and sticks it to the wound. Blood is dripping down her face. It looks like several pints' worth. She sees me look at it and smiles. "It isn't mine, sister. Don't worry." She then turns to the other sister. "Selena, look after her." The other woman stumbles over and holds the healant pad into place.

Kathia is administering final rites to the fallen sister – Daniella, I think that was her name – as Illyana walks up to her. Illyana stands at one side and waits respectfully as Kathia closes the woman's eyes. As the Sister Superior stands up, Illyana whispers something into her ear.

"I see." Kathia rises to her feet. "Sister!" she says, addressing me.

I immediately leap to my feet and snap to attention.

"This is a thankless job, but would you be so kind as to inform the sergeant that his last man has died in the service of the Emperor. I'll be performing the last rites, since we have time before the next wave, so he'd want to be around, I suppose. And send one of your sisters down. We'll need another to be able to cover all four sides."

I nod silently and make my way upstairs, clutching the healant pad. On the third floor, the three soldiers are sitting on the floor and attending to their weapons. I quietly go up to the sergeant and inform him of the news. He sits quietly for a few moments, before sighing. "As they say, sister, the fallen shall be forever remembered as the Emperor's finest." He shakes his head. "He was a good man."

He stands up and shuffles downstairs. Jessica slides over and peers at the healant pad. "How bad is it?"

I lift the pad up. The bleeding has stopped, but the white bone can be seen, with gouges left by the points of the chainsword plainly visible. "Chainsword," I explain to her, 'but I was lucky. We lost a sister downstairs. One of the new ones, her name was Daniella, if I'm not wrong."

"A pity."

"What's more of a pity is that Kathia wants one of you two to go downstairs to take her place." I don't relish the possibility of sending someone down there. The place is a deathtrap.

"I'll go." Carolina speaks up after an awkward silence. "Sister Jessica needs the superior elevation to use her meltagun with effectiveness, so I'll go instead. Lend me your heavy bolter, will you?" She grasps the weapon tightly.

I gesture towards her bolter. "Then I'll borrow your weapon, sister." I grasp her shoulder and look directly at her face. "You be careful, got that?"

Carolina mouths a _yes _and descends.

* * * * *

The next assault, which came at noon, was thankfully punctuated by close air support. As the Chaos lines moved to charge, Imperium Thunderhawks swooped down and dashed the spearheads apart. We only had to contend with the Chaos forces when the aircraft had to leave for refueling and rearming. This also helped to preserve our dwindling minefield.

Illyana worked for several hours straight to get through to Imperium command centre. The commanding officer was ecstatic, for they were sure we had fallen, along with the other half of the town. The situation had worked itself into a sort of equilibrium, but it was a stalemate. They were only too happy to provide us with aerial accompainment, though artillery was out of range. Reinforcements via Valkyrie transport was also promised. Kathia immediately got set to obtaining coordinates for the best drop zones, dashing in and out of the house during lulls in the bombardment.

Chaos jammed us before long, though, despite Illyana's frantic machinations at the communication device. The next barrage cut the antenna clean in two. I had gone down to collect more ammunition for the bolters, and found Illyana frantically banging the communication system.

"Curses!" She shouted, as she kicked the worn machine again. "Bloody Chaos just had to hit the wire. Acres of air out there for the shells to hit, and they have to hit that little bit of wire!"

I try to calm her down. "Surely you can repair it easily? It's just an antenna. Where's your repair kit? I'll help you repair it."

Illyana took a deep breath. "The bloody repair kit," she says, hitting the machine at every word, "WAS-IN-THE-BLOODY-RHINO!"

The comm device gave in to the pounding and collapsed into a pile of wires and metal. Just then, Kathia came rushing back in, panting heavily. "I've got the coordinates. The comm device…"

Her voice trailed of as she saw Illyana's handiwork. It would have been funny if the situation hadn't been so serious. I quickly retreated up the stairs with a few handfuls of bolter ammunition.

The Valkyrie dropships flew over in afternoon as promised, but as no coordinates were given, the stormtrooper drop troops were cut to pieces as they landed in enemy territory. Not a single one managed to escape to the relative safety of our position. Flak was heavy too, as we watched the Valkyrie squadron take a loss, the downed aircraft spinning in midair before crashing decidedly into the Chaos troops, exploding into a shower of torn metal.

Snipers also returned in the afternoon. After Sister Isabella of the second floor occupation force took a shot directly between the eyes, we all started moving around the building in a crawl. We had to rely purely on the minefields and hesistant shots for defence for the rest of the day. There were measures we could take, but extensive reinforcement to the windows can't be done under sniper fire. Thankfully, we managed to survive till night. The windows became boarded heavily with a thin slit of rockcrete, leaving only two small slits. It makes spotting the enemy plain hell, but it sure is better to having a bullet in the head.

The world seems so small at these times. The entirety of our universe seems to encompass only our little house, the little island in the vast sea of Chaos. It's supposed to be at these times that most troops break under the strain of the situation; the seeming futility of everything. Personally, I can't really understand that. Trials only serve to make one stronger; it helps me to see the evils of the Chaos, that I might be more able to smite them down.

I lean my bolter against the wall and sit against the wall. Enough thinking. Tomorrow will bring more Chaos. I should get the rest I can.

Hope you liked it! See you next chapter!


	5. 4: The House in the Middle of the Sea, 2

w00t! I'm back!

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**The House in the Middle of the Sea, Part 2**

Morning came with the perfunctory artillery bombardment, but this time, the sound is slightly different. The rush of the wind, the wail of the shells, you know what I mean. Sergeant Reglay notices it too, and he cocks his head in curiosity.

"Whirlwind shells," says Jessica, hefting her meltagun in preparation for the rhino rush that's sure to follow. "More accurate, but less chance of getting killed in the blast. I don't know whether it's better than the Defiler, but at least we aren't getting hit by either."

Just then, the air explodes around us, and a great wind rushes through the third floor. We hit the floor in reflex. When we look up, we see the morning sun glaring back down at us. The roof was gone. There's a sense of déjà vu here, and I immediately think back to the command aerial of our radio, snapped yesterday in another bombardment.

The crack of a sniper rifle fills the air, and I pluck a bullet from my armor. I observe the large fissure that now decorates the fleur-de-lis on my shoulder plate, stare at the bullet, before dashing down the stairs, Jessica and Reglay hot on my heels. We join the second floor occupation force, but after the first chaos infantry rush, I elect to go down to the first floor and join the defence there, where the cultists have generally been able to metaphorically 'knock on our door'.

The moment I slide down, I am already firing my bolter in the general direction of the chaos cultists that are running towards our position. Our minefield is completely spent, though the plentiful number of blackened craters and dead chaos are testament to their effectiveness in the defence. The cultists in my direction scatter, firing their laspistols in my general direction, none of which actually come close. They are easy prey, and my bolter fire makes quick work of them. Carolina, who has set up my heavy bolter on a tripod in the middle of the room, turns the weapon around and shoots a clip past my ear, cutting down more of the cultists. The rest of them scatter and run back to their own lines. With a sigh, I lean back. Yet another chaos wave beaten back. You'd think they'd have brought out heavier infantry instead of rushing those puny cultists.

I take a sip from my half-full canteen and begin to check my ammunition. Kathia walks over and sits next to me, her Sabbat pattern helm in the crook of her arm. Normally she doesn't wear the thing, preferring to not be inhibited by the low vision field of the helm, and also detesting the humid and sweaty interior that comes with the battle. Still, in here, protection takes precedence over observational capability.

"Forgive me, Sister Superior, but the Chaos whirlwinds knocked off our roof," I apologise, though knowing full well that she would understand. "We thought it more prudent to assist the other floor teams than leave ourselves open to snipers."

"Of no matter, sister." Kathia smiles wanely at me. "That was unavoidable, and your actions were probably the best considering the situation." She turns away, seeming to consider something, before turning back to me. "Sister, I think I know why the Chaos has been so reluctant to simply destroy our position."

She flips open her pouch and retrieves a pyramidal, pulsating object, completely etched with runes and symbols that reek of Chaos taint. "I found this yesterday night under one of the boxes on this floor. It seems that the Chaos were about to transport it out when the 21st attacked."

"What are you doing? Why do you keep it?" I hiss at her furiously and lunge for the accursed object, fully intent on emptying a bolter clip into it. Kathia calmly backhands me into the wall none too hard, before grabbing me and restraining my struggles for the artifact.

Ignoring the curious stares of the other three sisters in the room, she hisses back into my ear. "This is why I didn't want to tell any of you about this." She glances over her shoulder furtively, and notes with satisfaction that the three have decided that this is none of their business and have returned to sentry duty. With the exception of Carolina, who still stares at us in confusion.

Kathia lowers her voice further, until it is barely audible even with her lips at my ear. "The only reason why we've been able to survive till now is because this artifact is in our possession. If they were to sense that we had destroyed it, nothing would be stopping them from flattening this building."

Uncomfortable with the situation, I try to muster up a rebuttal. "But still, to _preserve _a Chaos artifact, is, is, so…_detestable_," I say, my hand still aching for my bolt pistol.

"Right now, preserving this artifact is the only way for us to survive this," Kathia whispers. "Trust me, the moment the…thing is in any risk of being retrieved by the Chaos, I ensure its destruction. Trust me on this."

"Very well," I say, after a long pause. "I understand, Sister Superior. Forgive my impudence."

She nods back at me, and her wane smile returns. With a sigh, she pulls herself up and heads to the second floor to check on them. Carolina comes to my side. "What was all that about?" she asks hesitantly.

"Nothing important." I reply. Attempting to steer the conversation away from this topic, I gesture towards the mounted heavy bolter. "I see you've put the heavy bolter into good use."

Carolina looks ruefully at the weapon. "It's a good machine," she says finally. "It is quite…enthusiastic in killing the enemy. That is good enough for me."

"True. Its potential is quite gratifying in this respect. I believe-"

Suddenly, the space-time continuum warps in the middle of the room, sending the aforementioned bolt weapon flying into a corner. A small rift opens, and Illyana and I immediately recognize it for what it is. "Daemonspawn!" she shouts, grabbing her weapon, and she fires wildly at the rift. Selena, the other sister on the floor, is stunned at the sudden development, and I quickly shake her to her senses and we add our bolter fire to the mix. The first daemon goes down as it begins to clamber out, but the one behind it jumps over its fallen friend, and I only just manage to catch the filthy thing on my chainsword. Its skin is as strong as carapace, and I only manage to destroy the abomination by pressing its body against the wall as the chainsword grinds it in two. Carolina manages to steer the heavy bolter into a firing position and begins to pump shot after shot at the spawn point, holding the foul creatures at bay.

A second rift suddenly begins to form behind Illyana, and before I can shout a warning, another daemon emerges, and its razor sharp claws slice off her shooting arm at the shoulder. She curses wildly as she falls, the disembodied arm squeezing off a few final bolter shots at the ceiling. I leap at the turning daemon and manage to hit it and knock it back, where Selena administers the final shot. I quickly run over to Illyana, whose arm is oozing a thick stream of blood. Her other arm clasps the stump tightly, and I quickly administer basic first aid to stem the flow. Kathia and another sister, Irene, dash down and quickly kill the rest of the daemons from the two warps. The foul passages close up quickly, and we are given respite.

Illyana's arm, or what's left of it, has stopped bleeding. Reattaching it is a lost cause; the daemons took half of it back into the warp, and the rest is a putrid lump of uniform and flesh. Kathia kneels down at her side. "We'll get you a prosthetic back at base." Illyana nods back, her face slightly contorted in pain.

The swirls in the space-time flow wrack the room once more, but they are a lot more, and their signatures are far stronger than before. Pure warp energy crackles in the room. Kathia looks around wildly. "Form a circle! On my point! Hurry, sisters!"

As we hurriedly carry out her commands, the warp lines split open, spilling out masses of muscled lumps, their razor-sharp claws striking out before they even manage to exit completely. The sisters in the room crash against each other, back to back, and we fire back. But the daemons are more resilient than our bolter rounds are strong, and I am forced to draw my chainsword yet again. The flash of the weapons as they spring from our sheaths filled me with a sort of pride. There's something stirring about using our swords; something noble; something even romantic. Of course, smiting down the enemy for Him is a joy in itself. Even Illyana attempts to draw her weapon, but Kathia snatches it from her reproachfully before hefting it with her power sword decidedly.

Still, whatever stirring feeling generated by the draw of swords was quite dissipated when the daemons launched themselves at us, lashing out with their claws in a flurry of blows. Having fought daemons before, I can sort of anticipate their moves, so it isn't terribly difficult to hold them back. I twist my chainsword around and hew the daemon on the head, sending black ichor slick in various directions. Another one springs to take its place, and I can make out yet another emerging from the warp behind it to join in the fight.

I hear a scream break out from one of the sisters, and I think _for the love of the Emperor, I've heard that far too many times and far too often. _I pull myself away from that distressing thought, and fully attend to the daemon that demands my utmost concentration. It is slain, and I steal a glance towards the beleaguered sister. Irene's hanging from the wall, with a daemon's hand through her chest, and another in her gut. The two extremities pin her to the wall, and her deep red blood mixing with the black blood of her assailant. The daemon itself is lying on the floor, having been cut in two by Kathia's power sword.

I pull myself away from the affecting scene and manage to meet the next daemon's attack just in time, its claws clashing against my sword. Selena bites off a shout as a daemon slices through her legs, but she brings her weapon round to disembowel her attacker. _She'd make a good fighter, _I think to myself, _if she survives this. _Carolina pulls her back, fending off another daemon's strike. I slice off one of its arms, and Illyana finishes it off with a trio of bolt pistol rounds to the head. Behind it tumble out another quartet of daemons, and from the looks of the mess of limbs and torsos inside the warp lines, there's another score of them waiting to emerge.

Suddenly, behind us, the crackling sound of a meltagun's prefiring sequence plays in our ears, and its blue-hot beam shoots delicately close over our heads, striking and vaporizing the four emerged daemons. Jessica stands precariously on the damaged stairs, her melta running through its cooling sequence. Behind her, Sergeant Reglay's grenade launcher barks out, sending a krak grenade straight into the face of another emerging piece of filth.

"Hurry up, sisters," Jessica shouts, her scar turning her face into a nasty grimace, "the melta'll cover you, but not forever."

Carolina and I hoist up the dismembered Selena, who looks back forlornly at her removed legs, and we carry her up the stairs, followed by the rest. Jessica fire a parting shot at the still-persistent daemons, but it's obvious that her single melta isn't going to be enough to stop the hordes that continue to jostle out of the warp, Sergeant Reglay's grenade launcher notwithstanding. As we collapse onto the second storey, the Sergeant drops a frag on the stairs, destroying them, and Jessica hurriedly covers the stairs with a prepared reinforced board. We've gained a breather, but now our real estate has been cut by two-thirds.

The end comes in the early afternoon. We know that with our relinquishment of the first floor, they've achieved all the factors neccessary for our defeat. It begins when my skin begins to tighten and the smell of ozone begins to permeate the air. It's unmistakeably terminator teleporters.

I pick up my chainsword and block the the first blow, then roll to the side dodging the giant armor's power fist. His weapon smashes harmlessly through an innocent chair, and I get away with a couple of splinters. Next to me, sister Elisa isn't so lucky. A large splinter buries into her arm, and as she is thus distracted, another Chaos Terminator picks her up bodily and crushes her head like an egg. The body falls to the ground, her neck spraying blood everywhere. The terminator's boot grinds her torso into a puree as he turns to face me.

Sergeant Reglay's grenade launcher shoots his last grenade - a frag - and it blows a hole in the floor, taking two terminators to the first floor. Now they only can give fire support, but there still remains five more of these monsters. Against five sisters and a single stormtrooper, the answer is obvious.

Kathia senses it too, the futility of it all, and she fishes the Chaos artifact out of her side pouch. Levelling her bolt pistol, she prepares to shoot the foul thing, which is now pulsating with its purple runes. The terminator she was dueling snatches it out of her grasp, but Kathia is quicker. Her bolt pistol fires, shattering the artifact even as the accursed terminator holds it in his defiled fist.

The destruction of the construct causes a miniature warp storm, engulfing the massive soldier and rending him to pieces. Kathia falls back against a wall, coughing heavily, but still alive. Our first kill against the terminators, which is a little uplifting, but the stupidly pragmatic side of me tells me that it wouldn't last. It's right, of course, as one of the terminators disengages from chasing Illyana around the room and makes for the winded and probably partially concussed Sister superior.

Kathia has enough presence of mind to swing her power sword to block the attack from the terminator's power fist. Too late does she realize that she's just turned this into a contest of strength, with a terminator no less. The power sword and the power fist lock together in a momentary shower of sparks, before the two weapons make their inexorable movement towards Kathia. I want to run up and break the lock, but the blasted terminator in front of me blocks my every move.

Kathia closes her eyes slowly, and her lips begin to mouth a silent prayer. I can make out the Litany of Absolution, and am struck by the scene that mirrors the mural that hangs at our Convent Prioris, _The Ascension of Saint Aspira. _

_If I should die, I shall welcome death as an old friend..._

Then her power sword cuts through her own armor, followed by the blunt power fist. Kathia falls to the ground in two parts, but her face never loses the serene grace that she exhibited in her last prayer.

One armed Illyana, her wound now freely dripping with the recent exertions, dashes over, blind with rage, and grasps Kathia's power sword. She swings the weapon at the terminator, tears streaming down her face, but the armored figure easily checks her with that Emperor-be-damned power fist. Jessica takes aim with her melta and fires, but the terminator somehow sidesteps with unerring knowhow. Sergeant Reglay's hellgun, with its apparently armor piercing qualities, forms a complicated pattern of dents on that demonic armor.

I wearily lift my chainsword as I sidestep another blow from the terminator. Just then, strains of hymns ring in my ears. _ECH 1467 Emperor is the First Other, _I think, before realizing how strange it is for hymns to suddenly play at this point in time.

With a massive explosion, I hear the ceiling cave in for the second time today. As the dust clears, I can make out the familiar outline of Seraphim squads soaring above. Several meltabombs tumble down and affix themselves to the terminators, which then explode the servants of Chaos into many different pieces. Strangely enough, the strength of their armor protects the six survivors from destruction instead.

The Seraphim continue their singing as they move on to cleanse the ground floor. Me, I just sit down on the floor and gaze at the two halves of Kathia. Of to the distance, the organ sounds of Exorcists drift over, partially obscuring the sounds of Illyana sobbing. The counter-counterattack seems to be going well. What was it that the Astartes captain said in the debrief? "No one who died in His service died in vain".

I cling to that statement now.

"When all is gone, only faith will remain, a bastion in times of trouble, a foothold in times of need."

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Sorry for the ridiculously long break, but this time, I swear on my blade, I'll keep to my promise and update regularly. Like once a week. If I don't, you can send me to a penal legion or something. That being said, Read and Review, and I'll see you in a week's time!

The Emperor Protects!


	6. 5: Interlude

Well hel-_loo _there! I've decided to update again, beating my 1 week update deadline by 2 days. It's shorter than my previous posts, but I think it's good enough for now. Don't worry, I'll stay faithful to this fic now. As Ingmar Bergman once said something to the effect of, "Computer games are my amorous mistress, but the fanfic is my faithful wife." Reverse the genders and you've got something to the effect of...

Whatever. Read!

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**Chapter 5**

**Interlude  
**

Sunlight streams in through the stained glass windows, shining down on the twelve tombstones that line the small garden. Most of these tombstones belong to my former squadmates, but I'm glad at least they got a space in the new convent that the Sororitas is constructing on the planet. With most of my squad out on surgery and healing, I'm here alone, which suits me fine. At times, looking at the line of graves can bring tears to my eyes, which isn't something I want to announce to everyone.

I hear bootsteps behind me and feel Canoness Angela softly placed a hand on my shoulder. I quickly get up to my feet, but she bats down my attempt of a salute and instead sits on the floor next to me. We sit silently and gaze for a while at the row of graves. The Canoness' hands play absentmindedly with a blade of grass, its height distinguishing it from the rest of its companions in the garden.

"You know, sister," she says, breaking the silence, "Kathia and I were in the same year at the Schola Progenium." Her eyes danced with the mirth of the reminiscence.

I acknowledge this with a slight widening of my eyes. I didn't know the Canoness was that young, but Kathia was halfway elderly for a simple sister superior. Sort of like myself, in some respects.

"It was strange," continued the Canoness, "she was the serious and straight-laced one, whilst I was the failing student. I remember her getting, like, first in our year?"

There's nothing much to say here, and I'm not really in the mood for a chat. Besides, the Canoness has every right to take a trip down memory lane if she wants.

"If I'm not wrong, you're from the batch two years later, right?" the Canoness asks, perhaps a little peeved at my lack of response. "Kathia and you knew each other from back then, isn't it?"

I trace the outline of my knee armour, and replied offhandedly, "Sort of." I stare at my boots. "She was closer to another sister. Illyana, her name is."

"Did she survive?"

I nod my head.

The Canoness nods in response, mirroring my image. "I envy you. I looked up to the sister superior in those years. Wishing she would notice me…or wishing that I was worth the notice that she garnered. I don't know which would have been more satisfying."

The blade of grass snaps under sudden pressure from her fingers. "When I finally managed to distinguish myself in battle, and got enough recommendations to my current position, I took a look at all of my classmates of that year in the Schola. Some were dead, well, most were, we weren't a very lucky batch. Some were serving normally, only one of them in Repentia, which is quite an achievement. But only one person actually remained as a sister superior of a battle sister squad."

The name floats disembodied between the two of us. This time, I break the silence. "Canoness, why did she remain as one, then?"

The Canoness turns and looks at me a little ruefully. "I would have thought it obvious to you, Sister." Her finger finds another blade of grass and begins toying with it. "The same reason why you stayed in the squad with her, you and sister…Illyana, was it? You people had something that you found worth protecting, besides the Emperor, that is."

The Canoness stared back at Kathia's grave solemnly. "I wish with all my heart that I had something worth treasuring as what your squad has."

I'm not sure what exactly to say in response. I muster a _Thank you, _though it seems anticlimactic, given the situation.

She throws her head back and chuckles. "Why thank me?" The Canoness leans back against a pillar. "Tell me, sister, you're expecting your squad to be broken up and redistributed?"

My eyebrows twitch a little. It's not something I'm looking forward to. "It's only standard operating procedure."

"You don't like it, do you?" The Canoness smirks at my discomfiture. "Well, I can't blame you. Still, Kathia always said you were Superior material…"

It doesn't take Ordo Famulous to understand what she's saying, though proper respect and decorum requires me to play ignorant. "What do you mean, Canoness?"

She continues in her apparent musing. "But yet, five sisters cannot consist a Battle Sister squad." The second blade of grass breaks, and the Canoness continues with a third. "Which leaves me with no choice, that as a veteran group…"

I can hardly believe what I'm hearing. "Canoness, I…"

She puts a finger to her lips and gathers herself to her feet, smiling lightly. "You came here as a Battle Sister, mourning the death of your comrades. Now, rise and set forth to smite the selfsame enemies that struck down these servants of the Emperor. Leave here in praise and adoration, for you are now a Celestian Superior, bathed in His grace, a reflection of his radiance and righteousness."

She pulls me to my feet, for I am still stunned a little by her words. "And I dare say your squad-sisters will want to hear the news."

I nod numbly and begin to stumble out of the convent building, and hear Canoness Angela's light laughter play in my ears.

The rest of the squad – or rather, my sisters – (I must start thinking of them as members of the squad that I lead) greeted the news with all the jubilation that one could expect from such a momentous declaration. For being a Celestian doesn't just garner us prettier clothes, better armor, or more powerful weaponry. We are now attached directly to the Canoness's command. We take orders only from them, and we outrank guard officers up to the rank of Captain. I think. Not that I think I'll ever have to do that.

The next few days sees us preparing for our new roles, outfitting ourselves with the ornate Celestian armour, decking out in the armory, which the Canoness has given us, for all intents and purposes, a free reign of. Jessica was especially happy with her new multi-melta, but was a little outdone when Selena, on return from her extensive leg augmentic replacements, snatched a power sword, besides claiming the Sacred Banner of the Order Militant that we had been assigned. In my whole time in service, I have never remembered a banner carrier carrying a dedicated weapon, but I guess there's always a first.

Seeing the rest of us rejuvenated and sort of recovered brought up the spirits in me. Morale, which was the first thing I was worried about when I took over Kathia's job, was in no trouble at all.

I even found the time to meet with the redoubtable Sergeant Reglay, who was chuffed at his new promotion to Captain. Such a leapfrog promotion was obviously rare, but I guess it wouldn't be that large a jump in practice, since his company had been decimated to around thirty Stormtroopers, from the original two hundred. Still, he wore his new bars proudly when we found the time to meet for a quick lunch at the joint officer's mess, which was shared by all three arms of service, but understandably underutilized by both the Sororitas and the Astartes.

He took one look at my new power armor and Celestian badge, and swore a silent and harmless oath. "I was hoping to show off my promotion," he says jovially, as we sit down with our steaming plates of Guardsman muck, "and I see that you're gone a quantum leap too!"

I smile back at the man. "How does it feel to be a Captain of the stormtroopers?"

"First off, sister, it's _sturmtruppen_, sister, not stormtroopers. Side rule that we're adopting. Stormtroopers just sounds silly, especially after they screened that old datafilm the other day, dating from, I don't know, forty thousand years ago, which had those fools in white armor who could aim at the planet and miss. Secondly, it's not really a captain, it's more, like, glorified Warrant Officer. I've got three squads, not a company under me."

Captain Reglay swallowed a spoonful of muck with disgust covered by years of experience. "Don't eat this thing, sister, it'll make your hair fall off."

I taste a little, and try as I did, I couldn't refrain from coughing it up surreptitiously. "How do you guys survive on this junk?"

"It tastes good after you've been out in the field with only rockrete wrapped in pretty packaging for a meal." Reglay glanced around carefully, before whispering to me. "Or sometimes we raid the stores of the higher-ups. They usually aren't smart enough to trace it back to us sturmtruppen."

"By the way," he says, continuing, "I've got reason to believe that we're going to be in another operation soon."

My interest is piqued. "What makes you think so?" I ask, as I extract a couple of Sororitas energy sticks from my bag and pass one to him, which he accepts gratefully.

"Well, sister," says he, munching thoughtfully, "when one's a captain, one picks up all sorts of things from the colonels and majors after they've been loafing around high command." He stares at the stick contemplatively. "Not that bad, this thing. Got any more?"

I shake my head in mock melancholy. "I'm sorry captain, but thae'e ain't nae' more of 'em."

"Never mind," he says, shaking his head in abjection, doing a good imitation of Colonel Gelm of Commoniel, of the popular holofilm series, when confronted with the entirety of Hive Fleet Bahamut.

I thank him as we retire from the mess hall, leaving the two plates of rubbish virtually untouched. As expected, I received deployment orders in the afternoon. An attack from the salient of the 352nd Mordian Armored Fists, led by the Canoness herself, to flank and pierce through the weaker rear Chaos defences. And this time my squad gets to travel between the comforting Godhammer pattern lascannons of a land raider. I positively adore my new job. Emperor bless the Canoness.

We set off late the next morning, the five new Celestians sitting opposite the Canoness and two Palatines. Canoness Angela smiles kindly at the two greener members of our group, and they lower their glances in respect. I've gotten permission from the Canoness to not be forced to don our Sabbat Pattern helms, which we, like Kathia, find restrictive. The Palatines didn't seem too happy with this, but the Canoness, recognizing where the sentiment came from, agreed readily.

One thing that wasn't too nice about the land raider is the abject lack of viewing ports and shooting positions that one finds on the Rhino, so we were unable to appreciate the view as our land raider joined the attack. Still, as I peeked out of the coning and looked around, a Rhino next to the raider went up in flames from a krak missile, whereas another shot with the self same ordnance bounced off our heavy armor. I fired back at the cultist missile team with my shiny new storm bolter, but Jessica climbed up, shoved me out of the way, and took them out with her multi-melta.

We're nearing the Chaos main base, and it's getting too crammed for the land raider's massive size to get through. The hatch opens, and our contingent runs out, guns a-blazing as the other sisters begin disembarking from their Rhinos. I feel a surge of pride as my squad fans out in perfect formation and drop the foolish cultists with accurate, sustained fire. Is this what Kathia felt when she watched us in battle? Then I can surely understand why she wasn't all that enthusiastic about moving into a staff position.

Chimeras containing Reglay's small Kasrkin squad pull up behind us to support our assault. With the Imperium's holy hymns on our lips, our forces charge forward as one, flattening the last remaining line of Chaos trenches. In the distance I can hear the low, comforting sound of Leman Russ and Exorcist fire hitting the other line of Chaos defences. It's nice to be on the attacking and on the victorious side again.

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w00t! another 2k words done! Read and Review, and I'll see you at the next update!


	7. 6: Containment

w00t! Hello again! I know I'm late, but it's not my fault. I swear on my rosa mystica that it was trouble with . Nevermind, I'll be on time next week.

This time it's not a phyrric victory, it's a good clean win for the sisters. And I actually added in an element of plot besides the mindless hack and slash! Read on, Macduff!

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** Chapter Six**

**Containment **

The Chaos forces, having worn themselves out in their attacks and counterattacks over the last few months, are near breaking point. The battle in their main base seems more a rout than a battle in the true sense. Nonetheless, that isn't going to stop me from revelling in their destruction. All in the name of the Emperor, of course.

My squad is instinctively flanking the Canoness, with her Palatines assisting in the more close ranged attacks, swinging their power swords and braziers with great sweeps, sending filthy chaos blood flying everywhere. Selena's banner provides a rallying point for the rest of the force, causing them to surge forward in a rolling wave that flattens the Chaos opposition with much alacrity. I duck quickly under a clumsy blow of a cultist's knife before knocking his head clean off with my storm bolter. Not really practical, but there's a kind of thrill in doing something silly like that.

The great numbers of cultists eventually make it past the sister's discplined fire, but being cultists, they're not very good with their little knives. I swing my power sword round as a couple of cultists become a head shorter. The Canoness' swordplay is decidingly efficient, and her Blessed Weapon – some sort of longsword, I'll ask her sometime – is making a mockery of everything less than a battle tank. Which haven't appeared at all, thank the Emperor.

What's more of a concern is the line of Chaos marines that are advancing behind the masses of dying cultists, letting the lesser ones take the hits meant for them. Their chainaxes glint with a nasty edge. World Eaters, from the look of it. Nasty in close combat, but only if they can get there. One of the Palatines shouts something into her comm bead, and a few seconds later the roar of rocket artillery fills the air, before the ornately engraved Exorcist missiles crash all around the madly running Chaos marines.

Artillery, I decide, is a joy to watch.

Basilisk shells begin crashing around the inner compound, and I watch as several cultist and marine bodies make lazy rises and falls twenty metres over the walls. The World Eaters, true to their blasphemous god Khorne, are still making these _disgusting _battle cries and attempting to wade through bolter and Exorcist fire towards us. One of them actually makes it close enough to swing his fist at Illyana, he having lost the arm with the chainaxe to a melta shot. Illyana ducks under it and sticks her heavy flamer at the Chaos Marine's gut, engulfing him in holy promethium. He falls still screaming out another of his silly war cries. One day the Imperium should tape these idiots and broadcast them around. It'd be better than those hundred- year old videos of tortured heretics. I mean, what's so great about torturing heretics? Any fool can do it. Heck, even a conscripted guardsman can do it. But torching them, now that's something interesting.

The tell-tale tightening of the skin, heralding a teleportation, brings the first sign of a serious battle. The Palatines and my Celestians form a ring around the Canoness, as it's probably the Chaos base's Obliterators. Sure enough, they appear about two metres above ground, falling down and crushing a few sisters under their massive armor. However massive their armor might be, it's still not much insurance against a Blessed Weapon, as Canoness Angela demonstrates, slicing through the disgusting plate like it was paper. Or a cultist, for that matter. Damn, I wish I had one of those things.

Still, a power sword is still pretty good. I pounce upon an Obliterator who had just finished butchering another Sister, striking against his back armor, which is sliced apart appreciatively. There're about thirty of these monsters in the area, hacking and slashing in their mad Chaos-tinged rage. The Sisters fall back, better served as fire support, while my Celestians draw their power weapons. A couple of squads of Seraphims start jumping in and out of range, tossing their melta bombs at the Obliterators. Overkill, but it's very useful, still.

Though only the Canoness' retinue remains in close combat, I don't worry very much, as the Sister lines behind us open a little and in rush thirty Sister Repentia, their Eviscerators already primed. I've always felt sorry for these red-robed sisters. Sometimes you can get thrown in for a slight misunderstanding, or as a scapegoat. At least it shows repentence, at the very least. At times like this, they're really useful, as they crash into the Obliterators, screaming for holy absolution. As power fist crashes against eviscerator, I feel the skin-tightening pressure again, and another thirty Obliterators materialize behind the current beleaugured group. _Holy Emperor, _I think, _that's a crapload of heavy support. _I pull my bandolier of krak grenades, pull out all the pins, and toss it in their general direction. The explosion awards me with two Obliterators collapsing. We can take them down, but with heavy losses, especially once they get into close combat.

Thankfully, they never get anywhere near that. Lascannons begin pulsating above us, slicing through the heavy infantry with beams meant for Land Raiders. I look up and see a flight of Vendetta Gunships bearing the insignia of the 45th Cadian Lasgunners. _Reglay's unit, _I think, and sure enough, the captain is sitting in the cockpit of one of the machines, and he waves down at us. A cheer goes up around us as the gunships decimate the obliterators from the safety of the air, heavy bolter fire clanging ineffectively off the Vendetta's armor. My Celestian squad waves back at him, until we watch the Vendettas, finished with their killing here, begin flying for the command centre.

"They're trying to capture it first!" Selena shouts indignantly. "Those, those, idiots!" She grasps her banner and her sword in a tight grip and begins dashing towards the command centre, with the rest of the retinue and the Canoness not far behind. The Repentia, down to thirteen sisters, comes up next to us, with the rest of the sisters following up behind. Nice as the captain might be, we're not just going to stand by and let him snatch our prize without a fight.

One of the Vendettas attempts a grav chute insertion, and like usually, it misses completely, landing about two hundred metres. Illyana smiles and diverts my comm bead to the Vendetta's channels, where I can hear Reglay cursing and swearing at the unfortunate Vendetta pilots for trying such a move. "It's ridiculously dangerous!" he shouts, rolling his words theatrically, "We haven't got enough men left to risk that! If we weren't so understaffed, I'd have you two shot!" I chuckle derisively. Captain Reglay acting the commissar? Please.

Enough of the distraction. I catch up with the rest of the group, as an Astartes terminator squad teleports in, frightening us all for a moment. _They could have come in a little earlier to help with the obliterators, _I think, a little unjustly, since the Space Marines would have had their hands full with their assault from the other flank. Still, the terminators rush up ahead of us, and are halfway up the stairs ahead of us, the main command centre at the top of the ten-storey building. However, the concrete stairs can't keep up to the weight of the nine terminators, and they collapse, stranding everyone on the first floor. Stupid Astartes.

Selena is looking especially distraught, clutching the banner unhappily, but most of us are disappointed. We're not angry at Reglay for trying to reach the summit first, since the Guard have been instrumental in the battle, but it's disappointing all the same.

Canoness Angela, however, isn't so dismayed. She walks out of the building with the rest of us following, and calls down a Seraphim squad.

"Sister, would your jump packs be able to carry double their current weight? We're going to try and capture the top before the Cadians do."

The Sister superior checks her pack, as do the rest of the sisters. They nod, a little hesitantly. "The machine spirit seems willing, Canoness," answers the sister superior.

The Seraphim grasp us by hand, and we are lifted up by the straining jump packs. The seraphim assigned to me pats her pack appreciatively and it shudders upwards slightly faster. Reglay, whose sturmtruppen are getting off the gunships on the landing pad on the 7th floor, looks at the rising contingent of sisters with a look of comic horror all over his face. He runs in with a squad of Kasrkin, but it's obvious he won't be in time. I can't help laughing out loud, earning a curious look by the seraphim sister.

We reach the top, and Selena wastes no time, unfurling the banner with great haste, and sticking it decidedly on the roof. It flutters proudly in the breeze, the image of the Ebon Chalice visible clearly from all angles of the base. The sudden sense of pride flutters to my breast, as I watch the cup motif fly proudly. All around the base, the sister pick up a hymn, ECH 775, _The Emperor Leads Us Victorious_. The sounds of singing rise like incense burning and make even the compound of defilement seem bathed in His glory.

The Canoness smiles tightly as she surveys the scene, the Imperial Guard moving in closer for the kill, the Space Marine squads securing the outer base, and of course the sounds of our sisters in praise. She begins softly singing along, her mouth barely mouthing the words. The two Palatines fall to their knees and begin praying, the images of devoutness personified. My squad, less sure of what to do when on the pedestal, retreats a little further to the middle of the roof, where we'd be out of sight from the sisters on the ground.

Reglay and his squad of Kasrkin make it up to the roof, panting heavily. "The rooms below were filled with junk, trash and dead cultists," he says in greeting. "We had to clear it before we could reach here, if not it'd be our banner flying there." He gestures towards the Kasrkin holding the stick and bundle of cloth, while he looks forlorn, distressed and miserable. I know him well enough to guess with enough confidence that he's only playing.

"Don't kid yourself, captain," I say, smiling at him, as ECH 775 reaches a crescendo.

* * *

What came after the singing and victory was much less stirring. The Canoness, finished with the blessing of our glorious dead, had her attention garnered by a sister superior, her face blanched with nausea.

"There's a room below that you ought to see, Canoness. It's just…"

The Canoness looks at her with a curious look on her face. But she leaves it at that, seeing that the sister superior looks quite ill. She gestures to her Palatines and I.

"Come, sisters. Let's see what has made Sister Maria so distressed." The Canoness pauses to affix one of her purity seals back in place, which was knocked off in the last battle, before turning back to sister Maria. "Lead on, Macduff."

The sister superior takes us to the basement of the former Chaos headquarters. It's a winding passage, and a sense of claustrophobia sort of envelopes our little party, but I shake it off easily. The rest of the sister superior's squad is waiting below, and salute us as we make our descent. They too look a little queasy.

"Take your squad back up, sister Maria," says the Canoness, eyeing them a little suspiciously. "Let them get rest."

"Thank you, Canoness," replies the sister superior gratefully, as the group of sisters bade a quick retreat.

We proceed down the passage slowly, and the taint of Chaos is getting stronger and stronger with every step. I instinctively bring my hand to my face to ward off the imaginary fumes. It doesn't help at all, but it helps me think that I'm doing something. The Canoness can sense it too, and I'm sure the Palatines know, but it's impossible to guess anything from their stoic faces.

I pick up my storm bolter hesistantly. Better safe than sorry, for sure. Behind me, my squad is readying their weapons. The Palatines have drawn their power weapons, and the Canoness' hand rests on the hilt of her Blessed Sword. "I can see why the Sister Superior was wary of going further," grumbles Jessica softly, "this taint is strong enough to drink."

There's a door at the end of the long corridor, and we can feel the fumes of Chaos presence billowing through the cracks, long snaking tendrils trying to infiltrate through the cracks of our armor. The sooner we get this over with, the better. I run over to the accursed door and ready to open it, checking over my shoulder to make sure the rest have me covered, as it wouldn't do for a Chaos marine to jump at me through the open door. They point their weapons over me and past my shoulders. I turn back, take a deep breath, and pull the door open.

What greets me isn't a suit of enemy power armor, but the effect is almost as bad. The stench of Chaos hits me like a ton of bricks, and I stagger back, barely controlling my urge to retch. My legs stumble back, and with my eyes watering, I blink a look through the doorway.

It's full of artifacts like the one Kathia died destroying. Big ones, small ones, of all different shapes and sizes, the room, surely big enough for a squadron of Immolators to do combat manouevers, is chock full of them.

Behind me, I hear Selena throwing up, and Illyana takes her sword from her, and supports the woman on her shoulder. Canoness Angela, looking extremely uncomfortable, looks at the room uncertainly, before nodding towards it. "I'm sorry, sisters, but we have to check it."

A moment passes, before we all nod as one and move hesistantly into the room – or rather, a hall, judging by the size of the place. The heretics had arranged the artifacts into neat rules throughout the area, but it could be as messy as hell, for all the way that the eight of us stumble through the place. The Chaos artifacts are clouding our vision and our judgement, far better than any artillery bombardment would. Emperor help us if there's a Chaos marine squad here, but luckily none appeared. Then again, we didn't go very far. Ten metres into the room, every one of my squad member was on their knees, emptying their insides. I made twelve before I joined them, as did the Palatines. Finally the Canoness turned back, her hand at her mouth.

She swallowed, hard. "Let's get out of here." She finally mumbled, halfway incoherently.

Once we had all left the room, and were a good fifty metres down the corridor, we all stopped and sat down to check our insides.

"Damnit, that many artifacts! You'd think that this was the frakkin' Eye of Terror or something!" One of the Palatines bit out, surprisingly rudely. I'm feeling too ill to respond, but I faintly hear the Canoness finally give up her lunch.

"The number is a great concern," says Canoness Angela, wiping her mouth slowly, "but what they intend to do with this many, I can only guess." She shakes her head. "And I'd rather not."

"I'm going to get our mission garrison this area. Can't have the collection fall back to the Chaos. From the looks of it, they were planning something big with that stash." Angela continues, taking a swig from her canteen.

"Forgive me, Canoness, but why not just destroy them all?" Illyana asks between gulps from her own canteen.

"Destroy them, sister? Surely you know what happens when something like that is destroyed. Destroy one, and it forms a small rift for a few seconds. Destroy that many at one go in such close proximity, well, the rift may be quite a bit bigger and stay for a teeny-bit longer than a few seconds. The implications are quite dangerous."

We nod our heads obediently. I'm quite unhappy with this arrangement. It seems all so familiar to a previous incident. Guarding Chaos artifacts won't be duty I relish.

"When the campaign is over I'll have the collection disposed slowly, bit by bit. But now, looking at the scale of the problem, I doubt we have the manpower to carry out such a massive project." Canoness Angela sighs, as she pulls herself back to her feet. "Well, we'd best be going now."

I pull Carolina to her feet, as she struggles not to throw up a second time. Jessica is cleaning off the vomit from her melta slowly. Quickly, our little group makes an exit from the tunnels, and back to the sunlight.

* * *

See you next post. Ta Ta For Now, Old Sport.


	8. 7: Poking the Cultist

Hello all! I'm sorry I haven't posted for a long time, and I probably won't be able to do so for a while, with big examinations coming up and all that KILL MAIM BURN THE EDUCATION MINISTRY you didn't see that. So I did a short update just for fun. Hope you find it passable. Thanks, and Read and Review.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

**Poking the Cultist**

How do you torture a masochist? It's a question that's seems sort of self-defeating logically and semantically, but it's a trouble that's quite apparent in our line of work. I am now staring down at a mangled cultist, his torn lips twisted into a jagged smile. His hands are tied to the edges of what the techpriests like to call a Pain-inducer of doom EX-3000 with rechargable, promethium-efficient batteries, or something to that effect, but what I call Utterly Ineffective. Which brings us back to the question: How do you torture a masochist?

Right now the Slaaneshi cultist is writhing in anticipation at the pain he expects and wants. Apparently extreme pain equals to pleasure amongst them. How it works, I have no idea. Disgusting creatures. I kick him out of detest, rather than in any attempt to extract information. His lips begin to curl up again, but I quickly punch him in the face before he can succeed. Withdrawing my hand, I pick off the teeth that have stuck to my glove and toss them into the corner.

Jessica sidles up next to me. "Ugly bastard, isn't he?"

I nod. "Ugly bastard. More ugly than usual too."

My hand moves up to the pain inducer switch, and the Slaaneshi begins to quiver with anticipation. Oh dear. This job's going to be long. I let my hand linger over the button, watching the damned cultist salivate in his own stupid definition of happiness. My hand then withdraws, and the cultist sinks back into the metal table (how he manages to give that impression, I have no idea) in what can only be described as a Chaos-tainted pout. Something like that.

This kind of thing has to be done over a long, long period of time, with great care and precision. The process is like watching paint dry, or like observing the growth of mould. I've gone through thirty-five repititions, and the dumb heretic is still pouting, but doesn't look mightily unhappy. Pain deprivation is working, but it's so damned slow, we might as well be waiting for the Star Child to come. I'd give it a miss, but the alternative is to help clearing out the Chaos artifact storeroom. A choice between the Bloodthirster and the deep blue sea. Jessica has already nodded off to sleep, and is snoring softly in the corner. I shan't disturb her. This job is boring enough for one person.

When I've sat through another five rounds of this ridiculous enterprise, I shake Jessica awake, and she brushes her mussed hair sleepily. "Go get a Hospitaler. We're going to speed up the process."

Jessica yawns and nods, trotting out obediently. I turn back to the cultist. "You know, heretic, if you'd just spit out what you'd know, I'll let my fingers press the button."

He turns his face as much as the binds allow him, and stares at me with what's left of his eyes. I feel like shrinking back from the chaos-wrecked _thing_, and settle for kicking him several times.

He shudders in pleasure, and I quickly control myself. "The pain that you give me here pales in comparison to what I will receive as a true servant of Slaanesh in death."

I raise my eyebrows. "You sure? The last time I tortured a cultist here, he didn't want to go back once we let the pain flow. He was all raring to stay, so much that we had to shoot him to get him to stop begging for more. Fifty times."

"He was a weakli-"

He's cut off as the door to the cell reopens. Jessica walks in, followed by one of the Order Hospitaller. "A Slaaneshi, is it?" The medical sister stares dubiously at him. "You did something to his face, didn't you?"

I take a glance at the mangled lips, the burst eyes, the ripped scalp, the cavernous remains of his nose and his drooping tongue. "How did you guess, sister?"

The Hospitaller looks at me slightly reprovingly, looking the seniority that she is. "Not a very efficient and disciplined use of force. Self-defeating, in fact." Her face softens slightly. "But understandable. Nerve disruption, is it?"

I nod.

"Very well. This won't take a moment." She fishes out a series of metal implements, and I peer over as she makes several quick cuts on various parts of the cultists' body. Jessica is singularly uninterested as she drops back off the sleep. Doesn't really make much difference anyway.

"There. Done." The Hospitaller gathers her tools, slick with dark blood, and looks over the cultist approvingly. "Good luck with him."

I nod my thanks and sign the Aquila, as the cultist looks away with disgust. "Don't worry, heretic." I say to him, as I kick him again for good measure. "I'll switch on the machine now."

The cultist quivers in anticipation, but his face suddenly scrunches up in confusion when I kick him. Oh, he's a smart one. I flick the switch and the machine whirrs to life, the minutely thin points punching into his body at what are supposed to be points of pain.

The cultist peers down as best as he can at the metal pieces punching through his body with a queer confusion, which gradually contorts into a roar of frustration and fury. "You bitch of the emperor!" he rages, as a minute point drives through his back and goes through what appears to be his stomach.

"Indeed." I reply with a distinct lack of interest, as I begin examine my fingers intensely, his shouts bouncing off my ears like lasgun rounds off the Canoness' Land Raider. A glob of his spit, black with blood lands on my knee armor, and I wipe it off the holy plate with great distaste. But at least the process is working.

This goes on for about an hour, and eventually his shouts rouse Jessica from her sleep. "Damnit, keep it down, will you, sister?" Her eyes widen as she reassess the situation. "Oh my, very good, sister, I mean." She picks herself up from her slump and ambles over to the prone and suffering cultist.

"Perhaps the machine spirit isn't willing today," she sighs, looking over the heretic.

"Balls to your false god!" the cultist sneers, half of his mouth rising to the occasion, the rest being lazy and just dripping blood.

"And here I was, offering to pull out all of his toes for him, or at least extract his fingernails." Jessica turns to me. "He's not got much time left. Angela's not going to be pleased when we've got nothing out of him."

"It's not as if we were going to get much out of him in the first place. The Canoness is asking for an Act of Faith." I stare down unhappily at the cultist, who is beginning to convulse readily. "As if this one is going to divuldge anything if he knows nothing. This is a job for the lower ranks, not us."

"Oh, you have no idea." The cultist becomes slightly lucid, although his body is now contorted into unnatural angles. I begin to dismiss him, drawing my bolt pistol, but he continues. "Chaos will rise again, with Slaanesh at its head and the others in his wake. Especially Khorne, he'll be a pet dog. But we, his servants, will reclaim this planet for him, for He gives us blessed release! You know not what powers and numbers you face with your pitiful army here. Your corpse God's head will roll with your own!"

I sigh.

"Do cultists speak the same drivel everywhere?" Jessica asks rhetorically, and shoots the cultist in the head as he begins to answer. His brains splatter against the wall, joining those of several other unlucky cultists. I pull him off the table and throw him into the incinerator concealed behind the wall.

"Ten down, twenty-three more to go." Jessica says, as we watch his body be consumed by the raging promethium. "I'll go get the next one."

I stretch and yawn audibly, and she looks at me with upraised eyebrows. "Now _that's _not like you at all." Jessica remarks whimsically.

"You can do the next few," I reply as I flop onto the chair in the corner. "I'm going take a nap. Wake me if the Canoness checks on us."

* * *

NOBODY expects the Inquisition! Our chief weapon is surprise...Surprise and fear...fear and surprise.... Our two weapons are fear and surprise...and ruthless efficiency.... Our three weapons are fear, and surprise, and ruthless efficiency...and an almost fanatical devotion to the Emperor.... Our four...no...


	9. 8: A Pit of Bones

Well, the last chapter I wrote was quite horrible, I admit. I disliked it pretty much when I wrote it, and God knows why I stuck it up in the first place. It didn't fit the grimdark atmosphere at all. So I've gone back, after a few months, to rewrite that chapter completely, changing the storyline to a darker scenario. I hope.

I certainly pray that this one is better.

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**Chapter 8**

**A Pit of Bones**

The ground comes rushing up to my feet.

Above me a guardsman is yelling something about low drop zones. I turn back at the incoming land. The grav chute buckles suddenly, which throws my vision off back at the surrounding grey spires of buildings, stained black with Emperor-knows-what.

Grav chutes aren't really made for power armour. For one, the backpacks are difficult to attach to the power system at the back of the suit. Another thing, more importantly, is the weight. The chute's system kicks in with little discernable difference, but after a few seconds I feel my descent slow slightly. Slightly being the operative word.

The impact isn't very comfortable, but the power armour does take most of the damage, chunks of it coming off. I breathe a prayer of thanks to Him that those weren't chunks of me. Next to me a sergeant falls into a messy splatter, the grav chute kicking in too late to be of much use. Low drop zones, indeed.

The Valkyrie we were riding in crashes into the ground a few hundred metres away, not exploding, but just dragging itself upside down on the cockpit across the main thoroughfare of the city. I pull myself to my feet. The rest of my squad of Celestians have made it more or less in one piece down, but the veterans sharing the gunship weren't so lucky. Five chunky red patches decorate the street we're on.

Dropping in on the next continent to secure invasion routes for the rest of the Imperium host looked good on dataslate. I just wished we weren't part of the drop. We should have come on the second wave of Thunderhawk gunships in the land raider, not by Valkyrie. Now we're about fifty miles from our dropzone, and seventy behind enemy lines.

Grav chuting in wasn't planned either. When the Valkyrie had its wing blown off by heavy flak, it was the only thing that could be done. That being said, the gunship was flying at low level to avoid detection. Good lot it did for us in the end. I run my fingers over my bolter as I wish the surviving dropships in our flight Emperor-speed as their vapour trails vanish into the horizon, wincing slightly as another one deviates downwards from its flightpath and into a mountain.

I gesture to my squad as we gather ourselves and our equipment, and we move out.

* * *

There's not very much we can do here but wait. The city seems deserted except for the Chaos symbols that dot every single building that we can see. It's extremely disconcerting, but eight pointed stars I can stand. The incarnadine redness that the sunlight seemed to turn into, that I can stand. The way the ground seems to swallow up the sound of our boots, that I can stand. The sudden disappearance of the flak cannons that were shooting up our gunships, that I can stand. The main square was another matter, though.

Statues of Imperium heroes stand the open area, which was normal. The various horns and extremities that were protruding from them were not. The customary effigy of Macharius had three extra arms sticking out of his back, and his tongue, set in stone, lolled lazily out as it gradually separated into serpentine heads, which coiled themselves around his legs. I raised my bolter and shot a few of them off, but the stone reformed itself back into the selfsame positions. We quickly retreated, glad to get away.

Now we're entrenched in a building in the outskirts of this cursed city, having boarded it up nicely to hold off most _things _for a while. I hope. There's a civilian transport that we scavenged, but if we were forced to use that, I don't think we'd make forty metres before they shot us out of the bulky, yet paper-thin vehicle.

Strangely enough, the streets seem to be deserted. Devoid of all life, they seem to have died along with the city's former inhabitants. Now they seem to be simply pieces of land, instead of the marks of civilization that comes with the Aquila emblem that is stamped every so often on them. Yet as we walked down them to our present position, I could feel the eyes of a thousand terrible things staring from the shattered shutters and windows of the gutted buildings. Once, my squad, unnerved to a great degree by the unearthly silence, rushed an isolated house, yelling battle-hymns, just anything to stop the silence. We found the house deserted, which was unsurprising, but at every moment there, we heard rustlings behind the walls, like vermin were scuttling behind, listening to our every move. Selena cut a hole in the cheap plastcrete in frustration, but it simply yielded the harsh red light that shone throughout the city. How anything could fit within that thin board I do not know.

They know our position, I tell myself. Why don't they just come and knock us off? Behind me Illyana begins to hum some old hymn, as she sights her weapon against a window. _Behold! The Triumph of Terra! _comes to my ears, and I unconsciously mouth the words along with the tune, taking scant comfort in the familiar hymn.

Jessica's found an entrance into the sewers at the back of the house. "It's another escape, just in case, I guess. At least I think it does lead to the sewers. It's got the Administratum stamp on the outside, and it's where one might expect the sewer entrance to be in the first place. Just that…" her voice trails off for a moment, before she finishes, "I don't remember when sewer entrances were not replaced since M34."

"It's a lifeline. The Emperor has given us a way out, sister. We shan't take it for granted."

"As you say then, sister. I just wished the Emperor would give us several hundred other sisters too."

I purse my lips. I'm frightened of the situation, and I'm know under that façade of calm Jessica's freaked out too. We've been together for too long for her to hide it from me. "Well, He probably thought we can deal with this all by ourselves then, right, sister?" I try to say lightheartedly, but it comes out as flat as a grox that had stepped in front of a baneblade.

Jessica smirks as she returns to checking her melta. I help Illyana knock another board into a window when suddenly Carolina, keeping watch, screams.

Stoic, stolid Carolina leaps back from her tripod- mounted heavy bolter and falls back on the floor, screaming incoherently as she claws at her throat. I quickly rush over and pry them away, even as they begin to form a chokehold around her neck. She kicks me in the gut with her boot and I stumble back, coughing heavily. Illyana quickly jumps into position and restrains her arms, as Selena holds her legs down. Jessica shoulders her melta and is about to help pin down the still violently-convulsing Carolina when suddenly we hear it.

A thousand, scuttling, quivering fingernails on the hard gravel. Where the road swallowed the sound of our bootsteps, it seems to throw the sound of that unearthly noise all around us.

"To the vehicle -," I begin to order, as a sudden explosion rocks the small structure and bits of the transport clatter around the building. Jessica turns to look out of the window, but quickly restrains herself. "To the sewers, then," she says, as she grips her melta ever tighter, a look of fear that I haven't seen before. Illyana and Selena are quick to comply, manhandling the struggling Carolina to the entrance as Jessica quickly opens the entrance for them. I attempt to disassemble the heavy bolter, but give up and yank it off the tripod before leaping after them. Jessica closes the hatch and falls in down after me, landing down non-too-comfortably on me.

The sign on the wall registers that the sewers here have been last inspected in the recent 556 M34. Strange, but it's probably a misprint. There's more important things to deal with, now. The sewer entrance seems to be holding, and Carolina seems to have calmed down a little. She's lying on the ground, shallow breaths escaping from her mouth. Illyana checks her for lifesigns, while Selena nurses a black eye.

Illyana looks up. "She'll be fine," she smiles, as Carolina winces, pulling herself up. Her eyes widen as she regains coherency. "The scuttling…scuttling…" she fairly screams, as she looks around, before she takes in the situation and calms down. I press the heavy bolter to her hands, and she seems to take a little comfort in its familiar grip.

"Forgive me, Sister Superior, I-I don't know why, but…"

I try and look reassuring and say, "it's alright. We're all a little jumpy."

There's a small set of steps that lead downwards from the little room that we've fallen into. The stink isn't too bad, considering it _is _a sewer, in a Chaos-held city, no less. No sense staying down here with whatever it is up there. I motion Illyana down, and she goes, her bolter held at the ready. Jessica follows, the cycling charges of her multi-melta starting up.

"It's blocked." She reports with a sense of relieved finality.

"Allow me, sister," Jessica says, priming her heavy weapon. Illyana quickly jumps out of the way as we all shield our eyes from the sharp flash of the multi-melta. The rocks tumble away with gratifying ease. But all is not well, and I hear Jessica whisper the Litany against Fear.

Pushing aside the stunned Sister, I look down and am shocked myself to see the sight that greets me. Below us, a massive pit extends as far as my eyes might see. It is arranged in circles, with what seems to be buildings jutting out from the sides of the depression. Small torches seem to light the stairway downward, but with what unearthly fire they glow I do not know, for they were blue flames, yet cold to the touch.

"No sense waiting down here, then," Selena says, "might as well go down." She takes a few steps down, and a small crushing sound is heard. The entire stairway is covered with bones. Human bones, by the look of it. Selena looks down at the length of the stairs and whimpers.

"Don't look so scared, sister," Illyana gulps out, "you've never seen a dead body before?" Selena shoots her a pained look.

"Enough. Move. We won't do any good staring at this." I say reluctantly, and the five of us make our way gingerly down the stairs. The crunch of bones is ever around us.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

It's a day of walking down, and we spend a moment of rest to eat a ration bar. I sit on a bare area and munch on it cautiously. Can't have us being too open. Jessica fingers her multi-melta nervously.

We can see a little into the bottom of the pit. It's strange, but the torches project a much larger glow that the little unearthly flames might suggest. The centre of the pit stands a large black structure. It coils upwards like fire caught in a moment of time. Black fire, that is.

Suddenly, a chant begins to ring out around the pit. Originating from the construct, it begins rebounding throughout the voluminous pit, getting louder and louder, until we can hear it clearly. It was a human voice, but the words it was uttering should not have ever come from a vessel of the manner of a human. To hear the noises of beasts emanating with the selfsame vigour is simple, and the more civilized voice of a human speaking gothic is perfectly fine, but to hear one speak the other is extremely disturbing.

We look around uncertainly, as the air begins to fill with a strange buzzing, that accompanied the voice, in a strange sort of way.

"_s'morghn ilyeh timardhn fn'gohrn pf'lagh."_

And at this, a queer rustling sound began to resound, and at our feet, the bones began rolling around, not aimlessly like as the wind blows, but as if they had a specific purpose.

"_s'morghn ilyeh timardhn fn'gohrn pf'lagh."_

The buzzing became incessant, as my squad fell instinctively into combat formation. A red haze began to form at my eyes, and I tried to wipe it away. Behind me, Carolina began to nurse a sudden nosebleed.

"_s'morghn ilyeh timardhn fn'gohrn pf'lagh."_

I suddenly realized to my horror that the haze was from the blood that was oozing out from my eyes. Scrambling at it, I attempt to staunch the flow, placing a purity seal to my eyes, and the holy paper is soaked in a few seconds.

"_s'morghn ilyeh timardhn fn'gohrn pf'lagh."_

The drips of blood on the floor tell me that we are all similarly affected. Pools of it begin to collect as muscle and sinew begin to form out of thin air, clinging to the bones like wet tissue.

"_s'morghn ilyeh timardhn fn'gohrn pf'lagh."_

"You're not going to wait until he gets to the part when he breathes life into the cadavers, are you?"

The sudden introduction of the new voice startles us all, and we all whip around. I nearly collapse from the faintness and the sudden movement I feel from the loss of blood.

A man in black robes is standing a distance off, a handkerchief pressed to his nose. "This way, sisters," he says, and he darts off. We quickly follow him, stumbling over the rapidly forming bodies, blood dropping from every orifice. I note with passing horror that the blood is turning a dark black, and becoming encrusted with black lumps. The man's shadow is not hard to follow too, and the five of us try our darnest to keep up with him.

Looking back at the incident, I wonder why we trusted him so easily. Perhaps the noise and the situation made us trusting of any way to get out of the situation, however small the chance might be.

And suddenly, it all stops. The blood flow, the buzzing, and the forming bodies. I look back, and there are still bodies in the distance, but the ground we stand on is covered with bones again. Bones. A comforting thought. An extremely comforting thought. My thoughts begin to return to me with alarming quickness. The blood. Right, the blood. It's gone. Excellent. Wait, why?

The man reappears with a couple of others in tow. "Lemesk here's a blank. Anti-psyker," he says, gesturing to the man on his right. "So he negates the projection. We're safe from the chanting."

"Forgive me, sir," asks Jessica, as she wipes her armour clean the best she can, "but who are you."

The man looks quizzically at her, before realizing that he hasn't introduced himself. He reaches into his robes and pulls out a rosary.

An Inquisitorial rosary. I quickly lower my eyes and recite the appropriate greeting.

"Inquisitor Tamalane, Ordo Hereticus. Good to see we're not the only ones stuck down here."

* * *

I have a request here. If you saw the previous post (the one that got deleted) and think that this one is better, do leave a review and let me know that. If you don't think so, then leave me a review saying so anyway. Thanks! =)


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